Nowheresville
by ElkeCQuinn
Summary: Dean and Sam find themselves in a little town in Ohio, hunting a vengeful spirit. But not all is as it seems, especially since our favorite demon is lending a hand. *Author's note: Sorry that some chapters are longer than others...* oh oh oh... I forgot this: Disclaimer: I am sadly not Eric Kripke, so regrettably I do not have the power to make Destiel canon... or own anything
1. Nowheresville

**Author's note: I promise to make this quick guys! This is a story a friend of mine and I are working on. We don't have an editor, so I'm doing all of that when I post here. Let me know if anything sounds funky or is not grammatically correct. Thanks!**

Sam woke from a restless sleep after Dean hit another pothole in the country road they were taking. He could hear the engine of their dad's '67 Impala straining from the pressure of the road. He looked to Dean, and saw his older brother focusing on the road, trying to keep with it in the dark. Knowing it would be best to not distract his brother, Sam looked out the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of a road sign or something letting him know where they were, so he could check his map. However, the road was just like many in their home state of Kansas, all gravel and no signs.

Dean turned the music up louder, wind whistling past his slightly cracked window to let in the night breeze, riding the midnight rush of the open road in front of him and having his brother safe in the passenger seat. fucked if he knows where they are, Route 43? there's a crescent moon hanging low tonight, and even Baby's headlights aren't enough to keep him going for much longer without sleep.

Leaning against the window, Sam smirks at his brother's music choice, the radio now blasting Bon Jovi's "Wanted Dead or Alive." Knowing that Dean turned it up because Sam's now awake, he turns it back down, and asks, "Hey, Dean, you look beat. You want me to drive for a bit?"

'Nah, Sammy, I'm-' punctuated by a huge yawn. 'Fine. Next sign of civilization we see, we pull over and sleep. Deal?'

"Ok... as long as you don't crash before then." Sam said, internally wanting to correct Dean... he didn't go by Sammy anymore, but it wasn't worth it. They were finally getting along again, and Sam wasn't about to jeopardize that. "Besides, how do you know we're gonna find civilization, we're in the middle of nowhere..."

"I'd never crash her." Dean looked highly offended at the suggestion. 'And we passed a sign half an hour back that said a town was coming up soon. Steubensgate or Greenville or Motel-O-Rama or wherever. Now you're up you can check the map.' Dean puts in his AC/DC cassette and turns his attention back to the road.

"Ok.. but I'm gonna need more than Steubensgate or Greenville or wherever to work with, Dean." Sam said, a little annoyed. His brother had inherited his father's trait of patronizing Sam's map hobby.

'Uhm... "Nowheresville"- 65 miles.' Dean grinned slightly, aware he's gotten under Sam's skin and enjoying it, and started humming.

Sam raised an eyebrow... "Nowheresville? Really? You would think they would come up with something a little more original..." Sam turned to the map, looking for Nowheresville... finally finding it, barely a pin prick on the map.

"Yeah, cause that's what small towns are known for Sam, their originality. You find it?"

"Yeah. I think." Sam said, turning the map slightly to see the roads better.

Dean squinted at the road ahead, trying to pick up any faint pinpricks of light. Zilch. "You think?"

"Well... you know the kind, barely pin prick on the map... and the moon isn't great for reading by, you know." Sam threw Dean a slight glare. "Ok. We should be there in about 45 minutes or so... or you know, 15" Sam says, seeing how fast Dean is going.

"That a challenge, little brother?" Dean flashed a razor-smile,inching the speedometer a tad closer to an even thirty over the speed limit. He's partly serious, just to rev Sam up a little, but really, he's the safest driver he knows, he'll get them there just fine.

Sam rolled his eyes and turned his gaze back out the window. Even though he doesn't completely feel comfortable doing high speeds on dirt roads, he trusts Dean completely. Suddenly out of the corner of his eye, Sam sees something sprint into the road. "Dean, watch out!"


	2. A Hunting We Will Go

"Son of a bitch!" Dean cursed a blue streak and braked hard, the car skidding to a halt near the side of the road. "What the hell?"

With a shrug, Sam looked along the road, looking for the blur. Finally, he saw a low blue light pulsating about five feet in front of them from a ditch. "Wanna go find out?" He said, opening his car door.

"On it." Dean's a second behind Sam in getting out, door thudding shut crisply. He approached semi-cautiously, focused with the receding adrenaline rush, glow getting brighter as they get close.

Sam unsheathed his knife, not knowing what to expect. Getting closer, Sam noticed that the light kept pulsing, like a heartbeat... in fact it matched his almost beat for beat. When he got about a foot away, he slid into the ditch, slipping a little on the mud. After gaining his footing, he looked in the direction of the light, except it was gone and there was no sign of anything that could have been there.

"Sam, you okay?" Dean blinked at the sudden loss of light. "Well. That was freaky." He crouched to examine the ground for tracks or evidence or anything but naturally, there's nothing there. "That wasn't, uh, a hallucination, right? Because you definitely saw it too." He looked up at Sam, bemused.

"Yeah... well, I've been known to see strange things." Sam said. "But something was there." Sam tried to get back up to the road, but his sneakers kept sliding in the mud. Finally he just started walking back in the general direction of the Impala, looking for a less sloped area to climb back up on the road.

Dean cast a suspicious last look around before turning and heading back as well, shaking his head. He was, of course, wearing far more sensible footgear and thus has no problem getting into/out of the ditch and back on the road before Sam manages it. He reached a hand down to help pull Sam up on the same level, and threw a look that said "Dude, wipe your feet before you _touch_ my car."

Sam took Dean's hand, but kept his glare level. Dean had a way of being overly obsessive about Baby. Maybe it was just because it was their dad's car, but... Sam felt at times he had to compete with a car for attention from his brother. "Anyway, moving on... now we're awake so Nowheresville?"

"Nowheresville." Dean agreed, swinging himself into the driver's seat. Dean's welfare priorities are Sam and Baby. In that order. Somebody, somewhere, would probably yell at him for not bothering including himself on the list. The glare from Sam is noted, however, and Dean made it a point to fast forward to a song on the side of that cassette that Sam's never verbally expressed his distaste for, which Dean knows means Sam sort of likes it. He only drives ten over the speed limit. Well. fifteen.

Sam fought the urge to hum along with the song, because that would show Dean he likes it... and he'd hear it nonstop from then on. Settling back in the seat, Sam watched trees zoom by and kept an eye peeled for any blue streaks. Finally, just barely on the horizon, he noticed a light. "Hey, think that's our stop?" He asked Dean pointing.

"Hope so." Dean recognized the cheap neon lighting of crappy motel signs everywhere and switched on the turn signal to get off.

Sam kept an eye on the road as they head to the nearest hotel. After about a quarter mile, he noticed the "welcome to" sign. "Welcome to Nowheresville, population: 700." It was a nice sign except somebody had taken spray paint and painted on a number one. "Well great. I don't feel like I'm walking into a horror movie at all." He said, grimly.

"Sam, our lives are a horror movie." Dean responded lightly, amused. "Except we're not screamy dumb teenagers that die at the end."

"Yeah... well, I'd prefer to stay in a town without having to hunt." Sam was still a little nostalgic about his time as a "normal" person.

"And I'd prefer a decent cheeseburger right about now, but if I'm lucky there'll be a vending machine for dinner." Dean grumbled, a block away from pulling in to a "Motor Motel," advertised with 'col_r tv' in missing block letters.

After they pulled in, Sam got out of the car and started walking. "I'm gonna go stretch my legs." What he didn't want Dean to know was he felt like he was being pulled somewhere... and he didn't know where, why, how, or by who.

'Alright, don't get eaten.' Dean went to wake up the sleeping night clerk in a tiny yellow office for a room key, and enjoyed a, er, lively debate over whether 'Paul Bonham' should really be paying over thirty dollars credit for a motel without an ice machine.

Sam felt himself being pulled down the main street, passing an open diner, noting it so he can buy Dean a burger later. As Sam worked his way closer and closer to the woods, he pulled his knife, prepared for the worst. As soon as he was far enough in the woods to not be seen anymore, he saw movement to his left. As he whirled to face whatever it was, he heard a familiar voice. "Hello, Sam."

"Wha?" Sam turned to the voice. Standing there, was Castiel, the angel Dean and Sam had met only a short while ago, only recognizable by the outline of his trench coat. "Castiel? What's going on?"

Castiel gave a small smile. "Sam, you should know better than to question an angel. However, I felt I should let you and Dean know... there is something around here that has been terrorizing the town. It looks like the work of Lilith. Be careful."

With that, Castiel was gone, disappearing into thin air. Sam spun looking for him, still full of questions... but no luck. He started back to the motel, pondering about what the angel had said. On the way, Sam stopped for burgers, getting a greasy bacon and cheese burger for Dean and a burger covered with a mini salad for himself. When he got back to the motel, he realized he didn't have the room number. He saw the light on in the office, and wandered over. "Hi, I'm looking for Paul Bonham. Could you tell me what room he's in?"

'Oh, that asshole? He's in room 23. Tell him I have no more towels for his 'Sasquatch'. That better not be a dog!" The manager pointed left desultorily, squinting suspiciously at Sam.

Sam smirked at the remark. "Yessir... thank you." He headed back to the door, and began looking for the stairs. Finding them, he headed up and found room 23 and knocked.

Dean groaed, busy using up the meager amount of hot water, and got out of the shower to let Sam in. Their bags are already inside, Dean's on the bed closest to the door and messily unpacked.

"I brought food," Sam says, as he tossed the bag from the diner next to Dean's suitcase, laughing "By the way, you did a good job pissing off the manager."

Dean beelined happily for the food, with a huff. "He wanted $65 for the night and we don't even have a coffee pot! And when I mentioned you he asked for a pet deposit." He smirked, but it turns into an actual smile when he gets to the bacon cheeseburger. "I should let you go for walks more often."

Sam laughed, "maybe you shouldn't refer to me as Sasquatch around people who don't like pets?"

"I was just gonna leave you to sleep in the car." Dean grinned, mouth full.

"As long as you crack a window... and don't pull a surprise visit."

"Surprise visit?"

"You know, coming by the car in the middle of the night... there's plenty of weapons in there... speaking of surprise visits. Guess who I just saw."

Dean looked up quizzically, having just finished off the burger with an indecently large last bite.

Sam tossed his burger to Dean, knowing Dean'll get more out of it that he would. "Cas."

Choking a bit in surprise, Dean caught the burger reflexively but ignored it. "Oh yeah? What did his feathery ass want?"

Sam noticed Dean's surprise. "He said something about Lilith opening a gate here... so I guess a-hunting we will go. He also told us to be careful."

"Careful of what? We already know the hellbitch is dangerous."

"Tell me about it. I was gonna ask... but you know Castiel. Never stays put long."

"Could you have been more cryptic?" Dean directed this to the ceiling, which was crisscrossed with cracks and water stains. He didn't quite know how to feel about the angel yet, but he let the prickly irritation suffice for now until he figures it out.

"But that's what I do," came Castiel's voice from the corner of the room.

Dean jumped, turning towards the sound. "Can you not do that?! Jeez, Cas!"

Castiel looked at Dean with the confused look he seems to have perfected in his time in the human host.

Sam laughed, and says, "well at least you picked a less creepy place this time."

"So, careful?" Dean emphasized the last word meaningfully, watching Castiel. "Little detail would be nice."

Castiel sighed..."careful... to take care... to watch your surroundings..need I explain more?"

"I know what careful means, Cas. What are we being careful of?" Dean retorted, exasperated

Sam laughed from the corner. The only time Dean got like this was with Cas. "I think what my brother is being so careful to say is what do we have to hunt? How is it more dangerous than what we've seen already?"

"Yes, thank you Sam, that." Dean gestured emphatically, waiting for an answer.

Castiel looked at both the Winchester brothers, and started explaining. "Ok. I heard through the grapevine that Lilith has something planned for this little town. I wish I could tell you what or when... but if Lilith is involved, I know it's going to be bad. So just be careful, ok boys?"

"Great. Well. That sounds like a party." Dean deflated a bit and glanced at Sam briefly. "Thanks for the, uh, warning, Cas."

Sam looked at Dean meaningfully before he continues. "Hey, Cas? On our way here, we saw this blue blur and almost ran into it... literally. It was in a ditch and had a pulse, a visible one. Any ideas to what that could be?"

"Depends, did it look human in form?"

"Not human, no, but it disappeared before we could get a great look at it, and it was damn bright."

"It was crazy fast too." Sam said, pitching in.

Castiel grew quiet for a moment, deep in thought. Then he just disappeared.

"Aren't we glad we have him for help?" Sam said, shaking his head.

"Yeah..." Dean sounded a bit more sincere than the sarcastic he's aiming for. He doesn't know, it's kind of... well, not _nice,_ but... there's someone else out that that cares whether they're walkin' straight into trouble and wants them to come out alright, and that's... "Anyway, we better get some sleep, got weird things ahead tomorrow."

"Right." Sam said, looking at Dean, trying to figure out the random change in Dean's mood.

"What?" Dean could feel Sam's eyes, while he burrowed through his bag for extra salt to reinforce the line by the door.

"Nothing." Sam said, with a shrug.

Dean gave a grunt, but doesn't press further, finishing up the standard hunter nighttime routine. He put the untouched second burger on the wobbly nightstand between the beds and flopped down onto the duvet, face buried into a pillow smelling faintly of smoke and cheap detergent, knife tucked underneath. 'Night, Sam.'

"Night Dean." Sam said with a slight smile.

Dean snuffled awake slowly, having slept hard enough that no nightmares woke him before the strips of daylight filtering in through the thick vertical blinds.

"Morning sunshine," said Sam. "I got breakfast." He moved from the table to show bacon, sausage, eggs, and toast.

"You're awesome." Dean smiled muzzily, appreciative, and looks for the coffee. "You, uh, been up long?"

"No, not really." Sam said, as he handed Dean a cup. "Couldn't sleep, so I went to the diner and got food."

"You alright?" Dean tok a long sip, it's black as sin and actually pretty quality.

"I guess... just thinking about what Cas said last night. What do you think Lilith could be up to? I mean, we just dealt with the last gate, and barely kept her from opening it." Sam shuddered slightly remembering back.

"I dunno, Sam. But we'll figure it out, and we'll kick her ass." Dean did the reassuring big brother thing, trying to make it true by sounding like he believes in it enough for there to be no way for them to fail. There aren't really any other not-shitty options, anyway, far as he's concerned.

Sam gave a small smile seeing his brother try to be reassuring. "I can't help but feel sometimes though, that no matter what we do, we're meant to fail."

''Hey, if this is about that one quiz you failed back in seventh grade, it's not my fault you got bit by a stray cat while keeping watch and bled all over your textbook. No need to get a complex." Dean avoided confronting Sam's dire outlook directly, instead thinking about where they should head next. 'If something's up around here, guess we should go check it out.' The town's too small for there to have been even a shitty map in the motel lobby, but Dean does remember vaguely some brochures for nearby 'attractions'.

Sam rolled his eyes remembering back to that test, but also noticed how fast that Dean changed the topic. "So what are we gonna prepare for? Cas was really mysterious, which doesn't help us in the least, because knowing Lilith, she's got something big up her sleeve. She wasn't too happy with us last time."

Dean looked grim. 'We prepare for everything. Up to and including clowns. But first we look around.'

"Okay." Sam said, looking out on the street. "Wanna go to the diner first? Meet the locals? They might know if something's up."

'Good a place as any.'

"You just want more food." Sam said, laughing at his brother's reaction.

"Pie counts as a food group, Sammy."

"Uh huh," Sam said, swinging the door open for Dean. "Let's walk. I'm still stiff from the ride up here."

Dean shoved his left foot into his still-tied boot, a bad habit he's owned too long to break now, and headed out the door, turning to do a quick once-over of the room in lieu of making a dirty joke at Sam, though he settled for a suggestively overt leer.

Sam looked away from Dean and turned to begin walking up the street and ran right into Castiel. "Damn, Cas... if you're gonna be popping in and out like that, try to give us some notice..."

"Whoa man, what's up now?" Dean stopped short behind Sam, barely but neatly avoiding the pileup.

"Well... I did some heavy researching on that spectre you boys saw. It turns out there is a very powerful spirit that's been known to be seen on small highways and roads in rural areas. I think you may know the legend of the ghostly hitchhikers?"

Sam nodded.

"Yeah, aren't those usually women in white, though? Or weird unhappy teenagers?" Dean asked.

"Well... it's like that, but one minor difference. It's a vengeful spirit that was involved in an extremely violent vehicular accident, which ended in their death. Many times, the person who died was just walking along the road. So what you boys saw, it was the spirit sprinting in the road trying to cause a deadly accident, except this time, the driver would die."

Sam looked at Dean, "This doesn't have anything to do with Lilith does it?"

"I don't believe so, but if you two are going to be out on the road after dark, be wary of it," and with that, Castiel disappeared.

"Yeah, thanks Cas!" Dean shouted at the sky, and then looked at Sam. "Dick move from the ghost, you think its bones are in that ditch, maybe?"

"Maybe," Sam said distractedly. He wasn't really so worried about the story, as to why it had gone after them... he had a hard time believing in coincidences.

"What is it?" Dean noticed the distraction on Sam's face, trying to remember in the back of his head if they need more lighter fuel.

"Huh? Oh nothing," Sam said, not wanting to worry Dean, "Here's the diner."

Dean shot him a look, muttering something that could suspiciously sound similar to 'nothing, my ass'. But a diner's a diner, and one of his personal checklists of good places to eat could always use an update. He turned his attention to the blue-and-pink pastel decor, the special of the day (Porkchops and Mashed Potatoes, $5.99) and the red-headed freckled cashier with the smudged nametag reading 'Mik-'

Sam wandered over to the bar and grabbed one of the menus from between the napkins and the sugar. He flips one of the coffee cups, and soon the waitress had it filled with the typical diner coffee, one shot of espresso away from turpentine. He started to rub his temple absently as he looked at the lunch items, trying to choose between fried chicken and burgers.

Coming over after a few minutes to sit next to Sam, Dean made eyes at the waitress in a harmless sort of way, who's likely five years older than the makeup and auburn hair color would suggest. 'Kid at the counter says that nothing exciting ever happens around here, the blueberry pie is better than the apple, and that a Mr. Aaron Henderson flipped his car out on the same road last month and is still stuck at home in a body cast. How's the coffee?'

"Like crap," Sam said, "but it's hot. So the other guy is ok, other than injuries?"

Dean grimaced but goes for a cup anyway. 'Oh yeah, he's fine, except for the dead-wife-on-impact thing.'

"Oh." Sam said... anyone who lost a partner was especially hard for him, after what happened to Jessica.

"Yeah..." Dean coughed, uncomfortable and unable to fix the look on Sam's face, and watched the waitress. "I dunno, how do you think we should, uh, approach him?"

"Maybe, I mean it couldn't hurt to try, right?" Sam was secretly hoping Dean would say no, but knew his brother better than that.

'A lead's a lead. Though if you wanna see if you can find any other accidents, Mike can probably scribble you a map to the library. We need to figure out who, or at least where this sucker is so we can gank it.' Dean gets the blueberry pie slice he ordered, which is about a 5.5 on the rankings list, but improves considerably with whipped cream.

"Sounds good," Sam said, jumping at the option to be by himself for a little while, just to think.

'Cool.' Dean's relieved Sam's taken the out for what it was. 'While you're there make sure to look up any other freaky stuff around here, like a bad batch of pickles or a 3-headed keep our eyes peeled.' Dean smiles sideways at Sam.

"Will do," Sam said, laughing. Not as warmly as he'd intended, but it felt good to laugh. After Dean headed out to go talk to Henderson, Sam paid and asked Mike for directions. As it turned out, the library was two doors down and across the street. Sam spent the walk thinking about the information gleaned from Castiel, little though it was. "Damn, Castiel, why can't you just tell us everything for once?" As he crossed the street, he would've bet he heard the angel chuckle, wryly.

Dean got back to the motel and did a quick check-over of Baby (couple dings in the paint he'll need to buff out, and the pressure in the back left tire looks a little low). He decided to go with Inspector from the National Transportation Safety Board for a cover and dressed accordingly, and dug up a fake badge from the trunk and a suitably solemn notebook/affects to go conduct the interview. The unfortunate Mr. Henderson's house is a few twisty backroads away. He was so not looking forward to doing this.

Sam followed Mike's directions to the library. Even though he didn't know what he was expecting, Sam knew this wasn't it. The "library" was a one room stone house that had probably been there since the town was built. Walking in, he walked up to receptionist, who was probably the same age, and asked where the records/ newspapers were. She raised a crooked, wrinkled hand in the general direction, and Sam headed over and began scanning through microfiche.

"Let yourself in, dammit!" is what Dean is greeted with from the inside of the small brown one-story house, garden flowers with bright petals already wilting in the sun. "If you've brought me another damn casserole I'll feed it to Sampson." Mr. Henderson was clearly miserable, stuck on a fading linen couch next to an aged Labrador retriever, and most certainly not expecting Dean. "Uh, no casseroles here, sir. Just business." Dean held up his hands placatingly, with his professional, i'm-a-good-guy smile. Mr. Henderson scowled. Fantastic.


	3. Salt and Burn

Sam felt like his eyes were going to explode. He'd been scrolling through news articles for four hours, and while he'd found some minor articles, they didn't really shed any light on what was going on. Most of the accidents that looked suspicious, the cops called accidents on the part of the driver, and didn't really look into it. Some of the articles called into question the legend of the spirit, but not a whole lot of information was given as to the background. Sam kept going, hoping to find the original accident that the spirit itself died in. So far, he was almost 25 years back and hadn't found much.

Dean sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, as he leaned into Baby's sun-warmed leather seats as the door closed. Mr. Henderson was kind of an asshole, not that Dean can blame him right now, but the man swore he 'wasn't 'no damn drunk driver', wasn't 'too tired', and that 'some damn bright light had run them off the road' coming back from their niece's band recital, and that was enough for Dean to go on confirmation-wise. As far as he can tell, the couple were squeaky clean, Mr. and Mrs. Apple Pie, and Brunch on Sundays kind of folks, quiet and with no real reason to seek any sort of sensationalism. Besides, he'd looked the man in the eyes, man-tactfully ignoring the reaches for occasional Kleenex, and seen the honesty there. The dude had lost his wife of fifteen years. And now he really wanted to gank this vengeful son of a bitch. Dean started the car and went to pick up Sam.

Sam had finally found the article he was looking for when he heard Dean's step on the floor."Hey, check this out. 'Katherine Jones, 19, was declared dead in a single vehicle automobile accident this morning at 2:30. She is survived by her parents and her older brother, Timothy, 23.' Check out the date." He said pointing. It was from 1935. "I found accident reports every few months after. This spirit has killed almost 100 people. We need to take care of this," said Sam, sighing. He knew the pain of losing a loved one too soon... and so did all these families from the last 70 years.

Dean clapped a hand on Sam's shoulder and read over it, squinting. "Looks like we'll need to go back out there tonight, see if we can dig anything up. Think it may be the dead, uh, Katherine chick?"

"Dunno, but it's worth a shot, huh?" Sam said, looking back at his brother. "We could stake out the road, she seems to be in full fledged attack mode."

"Sure, but we're gonna be walkin' most of the way. Not taking Baby back near it." Dean decided, firmly. "You about ready to stop straining your eyes here, geek boy?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Really?" Even though it'll take longer to walk then to take Baby, it would give Sam and Dean more time to devise a plan. "Geek boy? From the kid who locked himself in the closet with a flashlight and a stack of comics?"

Dean sputtered for a second "That was one time!" Dean had been eleven, and Dad hadn't approved of comic books, and, well, Bobby had let him out... eventually.

"Uh huh" Sam could remember a few other times that Dean got 'stuck ' in the closet, only to be inconspicuously let out by Bobby later. "Anyway, shall we head on over? It'll be dark by the time we get there."

"Already leavin'." Dean headed towards the door, slow enough for Sam and his long-ass giraffe legs to catch up, already going through a mental list of what to grab for the night

Sam caught up in two steps, beating Dean to the door. "So salt, guns, and coffee?"

"And Slim-Jims." Dean's consideried if maybe he should check his lighter when he turned to open the driver's side and got a face full of trenchcoat.

Castiel turned, looking at Dean, looking a little like a kicked puppy. "Planning a hunt, boys?" He asked, looking back and forth between the two, raising an eyebrow, like a teacher would with troublemakers.

Dean stumbled back, surprised, and wiped his mouth 'Geez Cas, watch it, man. Yeah, we're gonna go try and gank that spirit you were talking about last night. You want in?'

Cas looked at Dean, wearily. "I thought I told you to be careful, damn it. Running straight at this thing, that's not being careful. But I'll go, cuz I know there's no changing your mind."**_ (author's note: this is where I kinda slipped up and Cas sounds more like me, and/or Dean, than Castiel.)_**

Dean squinted at the angel, surprised at both his acceptance of the invitation and at how ...resigned that last bit sounded. "Alright, Cas, you don't have to be so excited. You got another suggestion for how we should go at it?" he ask, gruffly, so as not to seem he's reconsidering.

Cas was a little shocked when Dean asked for a second opinion, and for a moment didn't know what to say. However he quickly collected himself, and started in. "As a matter of fact, I do. Why don't we be a little more proactive than just waiting for a ghost to appear. With my help, we can probably find the skeleton in no time and burn the bones."

Dean smirked a bit at being the one to leave Cas, of all people, at a loss for words, and raised an eyebrow at Sam to silently ask what he thought, with a slight nod. Hell, Dean would take it, he did not want to spend any longer on this hunt than he has to, and was proud of Cas a bit, even, for chipping in. But he, at heart a contrary sonofabitch, was not gonna let the angel win without a bit of ragging on him first. "I dunno Cas, that might take all the fun out of it. You have spirit-radar or some other angel mojo that'll tell you where it is?" The skepticism's laced through with a smile though; you can tell he didn't really mean it.

Sam looked over Cas's head at Dean, with a smirk, he knew Dean might as well be reading Sam's mind about what he thinks, so he didn't vocalize it.

Meanwhile, Cas threw Dean a glare that plainly said "bite me." "You could do it your way, but I can pretty much guarantee you she won't show up unless you bring Baby."

Dean held up his hands in a 'whoa there' type of gesture, with an involuntary twitch of a glance at hood of the Impala. "Alright Cas, no need to get snippy, we'll ghostbust her your way."- a beat- "Since when do you call her Baby?"

"Good." Cas said, seeing the twitch, confused at Dean's last comment, "well isn't that what you call it?"

While all this was going on, Sam leaned on the hood, just laughing while taking in the two of them. Their spats were worse than his and Dean's.

"Yeah, but-" Dean caught a glimpse of his brother laughing, and is nothing if not good at transference of his flustered state. "Shut up, Sam, just because Cas appreciates her more than you."

Sam knew that was meant to stop his laughing, but if anything it just made him laugh harder.

Castiel just watched the Winchester brothers, trying to figure out what's going on. However, any knowledge he's gleaned about the humans does not apply to these two, which frustrates him more than it probably should. Even so, he finds himself laughing along with Sam, mostly at Dean's reaction.

Dean looked back and forth between Sam and Cas and just gave up on the two of them, corners of his mouth curled up helplessly. "Alright, alright chuckleheads, can we just get in the damn car?"

Sam opened the passenger door ready to get in and found Cas already there. With an eye roll, he got in the back seat and leaned over to Cas and whispered, "unspoken rule... you gotta call shotgun... and just teleporting is cheating." With a mischievous grin, he settled back in the seat, not minding as much as he let on, even though he really didn't have room for his long legs.

Dean's world aligned a bit straighter on its axis as he slipped into the driver's seat of his car, but tilted right off again when he looked over at Sam and instead is met with bright blue eyes that were definitely not his brother's. Huh. He didn't remember Cas calling shotgun. He mentally shrugged and pulled out to head to the motel, preemptively warning Sam over his shoulder not to kick his seat.

Cas watched Dean, seeing him jump a little seeing Cas in the passenger seat. "Something wrong, Dean?"

Sam laughed from behind them, "I told you Cas, call shotgun."

"Nah, Cas, you're fine." Relaxed, Dean glances in the rearview and saw something flicker momentarily at the edges. He grasped the wheel tighter but kept driving steadily. "Shit, Sam, watch the mirror."

Sam stared at the mirror for a while, not moving, knowing he was in Dean's way. "Is it gonna do a trick?"

Cas looked at the two of them, utterly lost, and the look on his face made Sam break his mock seriousness and break down laughing.

"What?" Cas asked, knowing Sam was laughing at him. When he got nothing but more laughter, he looked to Dean for help.

Dean missed the visual plea for clarification, alternating between watching the road and the mirror a bit too intensely for the rest of the trip, waiting for it to flicker again. They're almost to the motel when the thTHUMP under the front left wheel happens, where Dean is pretty damn sure there was nothing there to hit.

Sam looked up at Dean, hoping to hear a complaint about a damn dog or cat. However nothing came.

Cas felt the eyes of both Winchesters on him. He quickly got out of the car and headed for driver's side, expecting to see some poor little kitten that wandered into Dean's path. However, he saw nothing. Not even a dent on the bumper.

Dean gave Sam a look that said 'what the fuck' and opened the driver's side door a crack. "Shit, Cas, see anything?"

"No." Cas said, trying not to show how confused, and even a little afraid, he was. He knew the boys would look to him. Sure Dean had his bravado, but even he sometimes had his limits.

"Dude, if this dead chick is fucking with my car I am going to be _so_ pissed-" Dean shut the door and barely waited for Cas to pop back in before driving the rest of the way back to the motel. There's better be no more damn surprises.

"Cas, where is this spirit getting all her power? It doesn't seem like she should be all that different from a woman in white, yet... is it possible she's getting help from someone? Like I dunno..."

"Crowley? No. I don't believe so. I can't believe he'd get involved in something so trivial."

"Well who or whatever it is who's helping her out can knock it right the hell off" Dean bitched in response, closing his door when he gets out with more care than usual, and he resolved to slam the motel door closed instead later. They made it back with no further incident, but his hand lingered on her hood worriedly, and he was torn between looking her over thoroughly now or prioritizing ganking the dead chick first so she's no longer a threat.

Sam rolled his eyes and says "I'm gonna head to the store, get some jerky and salt, and then get some coffee from the diner."

"Yeah Sam, you do that." Dean waved distractedly and starts checking the car over.

Again, Sam rolled his eyes and motioned for Cas to follow, if he wanted. As he walked towards the store, he heard Cas' footfall behind him. "So do you think the demons could have a hand in this? Maybe not Crowley, but..."

Cas caught up to Sam pretty easily, of course it helps when you can bounce from place to place in the blink of an eye. "Well, I think that it's possible that the spirit could be getting some help. I just don't see why Crowley himself would get involved."

Sam looked at Cas and snorts. "Really? Cuz I can come up with two off the top of my head."

The trunk was supposed to be unlocked. but it wouldn't open, which annoyed Dean, who was busy attempting to jimmy it open. He didn't notice the eyes watching him from the rearview mirror.

"What does a dead girl have to do to get some attention around here?" Crowley sighed conversationally, tapping Dean on the shoulder from behind and pointing up at the glaring mirror. Dean startled at the touch and cursed, dropping the wrench, which Crowley's foot dodges neatly. "What the hell do you want?"

Crowley arched an eyebrow and leaned mock-casually against the Impala, not-so-secretly enjoying Dean's intensifying death glare "I want a word with your angel, tiger. There's some dissension in the ranks and possibly a lot of verbiage you wouldn't understand involved." He gestured as Dean opened his mouth indignantly. "Don't worry, I'm prepared to wait. How is the whole end-of-the-world thing going for you, anyway?"

Cas and Sam spent the rest of the shopping trip in silence. Cas found himself watching Sam, and the way he kind of moved differently than when they'd first met. He seemed more grown up and less free than at first. He seemed more like... Dean. Cas found himself shaking away those thoughts before it took him off on a squirrel could feel Cas watching him as they walked back to the car, however, he soon found himself not caring when he saw the black trenchcoat and heard a familiar British accent. "Crowley," he hissed.

"-well you can just take that line of bullshit and shove it right back up your ass!" Dean's pissed and he wanted a drink and if Crowley referred to Sammy as 'the Boy King' ever fucking again he would screw their alliance or truce or whatever it is and attempt an exorcism.

"Ah, the jolly green giant and the renegade, back from foraging."Crowley turned to meet them cheerily, ignoring the snarling Dean and the less-than-enthusiastic reception.

Cas glared at Crowley, and said "You want to talk? Talk. I don't have time for your little games, Crowley."

"You wound me. There's been a shakeup downstairs. I'm not sure who's behind it but last I heard they are currently ...hellbent on causing your pets here trouble. Thought you may want a friendly tip." He spread his hands, all innocence hiding malicious intent.

Sam glared at Crowley at the mention of pets, but listened anyway... this is Cas's conversation.

"And what do you get out of it? You never give friendly tips for nothing." Cas growled. He was tired of having to wheel and deal all the time just to stay out of the way of Crowley on the warpath.

Dean bristled immediately but clamps his mouth shut for once, thinking loud and colorful obscenities at the demon instead.

Crowley smiled, trustworthy as a used bible salesman. "Nothing, yet. I'll be in touch. Although, I'll take some of that coffee for the road." He reached for the cup in Sam's hand expectantly. "The one with the sugar, if you would."

Sam almost told the demon to go back from whence he came and keep his coffee, but he sighed and handed it over, knowing he was not gonna miss the turpentine mix much.

Crowley's smile almost reached his eyes. " 'Ta, Sammy." He threws in, as an afterthought "Oh, and Dean, check the engine." and was gone.

Sam growled at being called Sammy. From Dean, he could take it, but hell if he'd take it from Crowley. Since Crowley was gone, he instead looked at Dean, trying to figure out what the hell the demon had done to the car.

"I HATE that sonofabitch!" Dean threw the cheap screwdriver he was using to try and jimmy the trunk open with at the space Crowley had just been in. The trunk of course now popped open obligingly, with the few various crucifixes all upside down for an extra parting shot. Dean went around to the front, extremely upset. The engine is fine, except for the coagulated blood where the oil should be.

Sam heard a muffled line of cursing from Dean and headed over to see what was up. "What the f-" The word was lost as Cas appeared and whispered in Dean's ear.

Dean shivered involuntarily at the unexpected voice in his ear and missed the words entirely for a second. 'Huh?'

Sam raised an eyebrow, but got under the car, loosened the oil cap and grabbed an old container from the car to drain the blood into.

Cas glanced at Sam, making sure he's still tinkering under the car and looked at Dean, and quietly says, "what did Crowley say before I got here? I heard you mention Sam."

Dean glanced at his brother involuntarily, shoving the flash of the lurking worries that he doesn't want to acknowledge exist about his brother back down where it belongs. "It's fine Cas, just his usual bs line of crap, trying to rile me up." Conveniently ignoring that it totally worked. "Can we just gank this bitch before we have to worry about another demon party crashing this parade?" And there he went, mixing metaphors and blustering through the mix of emotions he's feeling instead of dealing with any of them, settling with pissed-off as default and therefore safest.

Cas looked at Dean, a little confused over the five different mood swings in two seconds, but said nothing about it. Instead, he helped Sam up from changing the oil, "agreed. Let's go."

"Thanks, Sam." Dean acknowledged the bloody specks all over Sam's hands and went round to grab the bags with their gear from the trunk. "Where we goin', Cas?"

Cas almost considered asking to drive since he knew where he's going... but he figured Dean's had enough of a scare for the day involving his car and decided against it. Instead, he got in the back and pointed down the road. He told Dean which turns to make once they got going and soon enough, he can feel the vibration of EMFs radiating. He found the epicenter of it, an isolated area in one of the ditches.

Dean pulled over nearby and made sure to take out the keys. 'Shovels, Sam?'

"What shovels?" Sam said sarcastically. Following a glare from Dean, he smirked and said "left em at the hotel."

Dean made the 'aren't you special' bitchface at Sam. 'Guess you can use your hands then.'

Sam grabbed the shovels from the trunk, "I may not have left these, but I think you left your sense of humor at the hotel."

Dean made a rude remark not-so-under-his-breath about where Sam can shove his sense of humor and takes a shovel. 'Cas?'

Cas caught the shovel Dean threw him with ease. "I'm not sure I understand, how could Sam shove his humor there?"

Dean huffed out a surprised laugh at that. Damn, he'd forgotten about the fine-tuned angel hearing. 'I'm sure he'll figure it out.'

Sam found it hard to stay mad at Dean after he watched this exchange, and as he headed to the ditch, clapping his brother on the back.

Dean went to help his brother, after a quick check with Cas that they're in the right spot. The earth was kind of tough under the initial fine layer of dust, and the bones were probably down pretty deep after so many decades.

Sam got straight to work once Cas gives the go ahead. Dean did what he does best, supervise, while Sam dug and Cas tried to help. Suddenly, Sam gave a shout, "Hey! I found some bones. Human."

Dean came over to examine them, bending down to touch the curve of a finger when 'Ow!' He pulled his hand back swiftly, shaking it. 'It freaking -shocked- me.'

"Did what now?"Sam asked reaching for it, he didn't need Dean's answer, he felt like he was reaching for a doorknob on a carpeted floor in winter.

Dean smacked Sam's hand away anyway, reflexive from years of making sure the damn kid didn't burn himself on crappily stove-top reheated Chef Boyardee. "Yeah, /that's/ normal, what the hell?"

"Hey!" Sam said, out of sheer reflex. "what the hell, man?"

"Don't freaking touch it Sam, what are you, two? Cas any reason that- is that a spark plug? Oh that's real cute, ghost lady." Just cause it's embedded between what look like the last two digits of a right hand.

Cas came over and sorted through the bones, digging through them, and to Sam it seemed like he wasn't even feeling the shock.

However, Cas felt every bit, and worked through it, looking for the piece that was creating the energy. Shortly after he'd started looking, he found it, a little piece of metal looking material, to anyone else, they would've thought it was. However, Cas knew otherwise... and he disappeared.

Dean blinkeed at the sudden absence. 'Cas? Cas!' He scuffed at the ground near the bones that are no longer intent on zapping them, apparently. 'Dammit. Let's make this bitch extra crispy.'

"I dunno," said Sam, "grilled sounds good too."

Dean flicked a crooked smile at Sam for that and proceeded with the salt and burn, emphasis on the burning.

'So... d'ya think we got her? Think we're done?" asked Sam. "And what the hell did Cas disappear with?"

Dean stepped back and watched the flames flickering, bumping shoulders with his little brother. 'Man I _hope_ we're done here. And hell if I know, but I think it was the reason this ghost bitch's mojo was amped up." Dean also hoped the angel will come back soon. It was so damn annoying when he disappeared out of the blue like that.

Sam looked to the sky, expectantly, almost as if he was looking for the angel. "I dunno. You were closer, remember? Or were you paying too much attention to him and not enough to the thing he was holding?"

Dean looked sideways at his brother. "What's that supposed to mean?

"I really have to explain what I mean?" Sam looked at Dean sideways, laughing. He headed back to the car, kicking a pebble on the way. He thought about the pieces of the conversation he'd heard between Cas and Dean. Did Crowley really mention him? If so what did he want?

"Sam!" There was definitely a sputter of indignation aimed at the back of his brother's scruffy brown jacket. It's not- They're not- It's Cas for crying out loud, that's all, he's just got personal space issues and a limited friendpool, it's not like he's, he's Dean's angel or anything- the brand on his arm seems to burn as a sudden reminder- and anyway even if Dean were- not that he is!- no angel would look twice at Dean, not after Hell, especially not the one that'd pulled him out of there. So what if Dean sometimes watched him like he's a miracle; to a nonbeliever he's the closest thing to faith there is.

He watched the flames flicker moodily for a few more minutes; which is just as well, he wouldn't notice the car keys are missing until he got back to the Impala anyhow.

Finding the Impala stubbornly locked, Sam found himself calling silently to Cas, "hey man, if you know anything, you'd share with us right? Or at least tell Dean. You can see how you disappearing like you do messes with his head.. he can't focus after you leave. A little explanation would go a long way, Cas."

Dean's done with the whole introspection thing, and ambled back to the car. He had no idea why he took Sam's comment so damn to heart anyway. He opened the trunk, or would, if he had his keys, which he didn't. A quick shuffle through his pockets also failed to reveal them. Motherfucker. 'Sam, did you take my keys?'

"No... why would I have your keys?" Sam asked, breaking out of his little reverie.

"Cause I don't. They're not here. Shit." Dean _knew_ he didn't drop them but he backtracked immediately anyway, scuffing up dust around the car and to the ditch and back.

Sam looked around, and finally went back to talking to Cas, "You don't have the keys, do you?"

Cas heard Sam and yes, he knew how he affected Dean. He could see it Dean's face whenever he would pop back in. However, he also knew that he had to keep his feelings for Dean in check. Right now, there was no plausible way for the two to be able to express their feelings, especially Dean. Not right now, when he had to worry about the end of the world. No, Dean would always put Sam first. Cas looked at his palm, feeling the weight of the metal from the keys to the Impala. When he'd first taken them, he'd expected to pop right back, but there was more to the artefact than he'd originally anticipated. As he delved into the knowledge his brothers had of the piece, he realized there was more to this artefact than he could ever expect from a simple ghost. No wonder she was able to do what she had done. Unfortunately, it also confirmed what he'd been worrying over, Lilith had plans for the boys.

Dean hadn't found the keys anywhere, and was eyeing the smoldering ashes left in the ditch with half a mind to dig through them. "Sammy, any luck?" His voice, pitched low, worried, and without intending to, really, he sent up a 'Cas?' in mental inquiry.

"No dice, sorry, man." Sam said.

Cas felt a strong surge of surprise hearing Dean's voice. It wasn't like the older Winchester to ask for help. With that, he grabbed hold of his grace and swooped back down to Earth.

"I believe these belong to you," he said, handing the keys back to Dean. "I borrowed them to keep you both from leaving. I hadn't intended to be gone for as long as I was." He watched Dean's reaction very carefully before continuing, "The artefact we found was of Demon construction... and it requires serious power to use. What I'm saying is the only one who could have used it, other than Crowley, is Lilith. If Crowley is as innocent as he proclaims to be, that doesn't leave us many options, does it?"

Dean let out a phrase he learned from a retired ship captain they'd once helped to exorcise a lighthouse one summer, snatching them gracelessly with relief. "Cas, your feathery ass better never take my fucking keys again."

"I'm sorry, Dean, but unless you pray for me, I can't find you, and I couldn't chance losing you before I fully understand what was going on." His voice was a little more pleading than he'd intended, but Dean seemed to get the message.

Dean clutched the jingling metal, but his pissed expression softened just a little at Cas's pleading. Damn, it was kind of hard to stay angry at that, even if taking them _was_ a dick move. "Next time just ask us to wait, huh?"

"I will, thank you, Dean." Cas understood that Dean would be mad, but he knew that he didn't want to lose Dean, or Sam for that matter, he told himself. "Anyway, now that we know that Lilith is here, we need to formulate a plan."

Dean's unlocking the driver's side door. "Uh, we shank every creepy little girl we meet in a five mile radius?" Past the initial relief of getting his keys he was annoyed and sore and wants a shower profoundly more than he wants to deal with the bitch who'd held his contract.

"Yeah, cuz that's the way we do things, Dean," Sam said. Even though Sam knew Dean was talking out of sheer annoyance with Lilith and his time in Hell, Sam had still found himself trying to find a way to save his brother, though Ruby and Crowley both said it was impossible, and so he found himself equally pissed with Lilith.

Cas looked sideways at Dean. He had searched for years for Dean in Hell, not an easy feat. He'd been the only one that his Father had assigned to the task that had stuck to it. Why didn't Dean see that when he questioned Cas's loyalty? Didn't he understand? Sometimes Cas just couldn't understand human emotions, especially those of the Winchester brothers, who kept theirs under tight wraps.


	4. There's Something in the Kool-Aid

Dean glared at Sam and huffed, bitchily, feeling the residual happiness from their successful salt-and-burn leeching away inside him to be replaced with resignation and a tinge of, well, fear. He turns to the angel. 'Fine. Thanks for the heads up, Cas. You... you did good. Can we just figure it out back at the motel? I'm sick of smelling like bone barbecue.' There's a tone there he didn't mean to use, a lilt like it's actually a question instead of him rhetorically deciding what they're gonna do, and a part of him hated himself for that.

Cas looked at Dean questioningly, as did Sam, neither have heard Dean complain before about the burnings. Sam raised an eyebrow at Cas and says, "hey I'm gonna walk back," motioning to Dean at Cas with the hope that the angel would get the hint. The two of them needed to talk, and it would probably be best if Sam wasn't around.

Dean sighed, catching Sam's motion and scowled. "No way Sam, that's like four miles."

"Dude. I'm not a kid anymore. I've walked further, and I'm not exactly into the idea of sitting in the back again," he said with a smirk.

"Then call shotgun." Dean replied irritably, swinging himself into the driver's seat. "If you walk I will drive beside you all the way back at three miles an hour." It was not an idle threat, he'd done it a fair few times when Sam was a moody teenager.

"Fine. Cuz I'm walkin. I just need to stretch my legs, and think a little, ok, Dean?" Sam rolled his eyes and started walking. Even if Dean did follow him at three miles an hour, he wouldn't have a heck of a lot of choice but to talk with Cas.

Dean groaned and started the engine. "Hop in, Cas." He didn't care what Sam wanted, he was not gonna this touchy-feely talking crap, and he was definitely not doing it about hell.

Cas looked between the brothers, not exactly sure what's going on. He got in the passenger seat, since Sam said he was going to walk. As Dean got in, he asked, "Are you really going to follow him at three miles an hour?"

"Yep." He focused on the road as he began to follow Sam, doesn't look at Cas. It's quiet in the car, the cassette tape needs to be turned over, and after an itchy two-minute lull he cleared his throat and asked 'So, uh, you mentioned an artefact?"

Cas spent the first couple minutes waiting for Dean to talk. "Yes, the little metal piece you found that 'shocked' you. It turns out that there were some residual effects from an electrical storm recently. However, for the piece to hold the charge like it did, it needed help. Firstly, it was an ancient piece, from some of the first metal ever forged. Secondly, it had some demon help, so that whoever got near the piece would get a shock and would be deterred. I think they knew hunters would come through... however they didn't plan on you two having me with you."

The corner of Dean's mouth twitched up in Cas's direction. "Guess we're pretty lucky, then. Funny, though, seems like a lotta trouble to go through for a demon, over a minor ghost in a podunk town in the middle of nowhere."

Sam looked over at the Impala and saw Cas and Dean talking. Good.

Cas saw the almost smile and smiled back, before catching himself. Quickly gaining his composure, he responded, "Yes, it is strange, but we already know that there are people in Hell who would do just about anything to get you and Sam down there with them."

"Good thing we have you, Mr. Search and Rescue." He said lightly, but Cas dragging him out of the pit once was enough, and the involuntary mental image of Sam down there- his hands tightened on the steering wheel, a momentary protest-

Cas reached over and set his hand on Dean's, "Dean, I will never let them take you. You've done your time. The next time you die, you'll see your parents again, and Sam'll see Jess."

Dean flinched at that, wide-eyed, but didn't jerk his hand away like he probably should have want to, he couldn't disbelieve the promise in that voice, though he tried.

Cas smiled and gave Dean's hand a slight squeeze and then took his hand back, and still smiling, slightly kept an eye on Sam.

Sam looked in the car to see how it's going. Apparently it was going well, if not a little strange. Cas had Dean's hand in his and Dean, the king of hooking up with anything with legs and boobs, wasn't pulling away.

Before either of them could notice him looking, he slowed up and knocked on the Hood, signalling Dean to stop.

Dean looked at Cas for a long moment, searching for something he doesn't have a name for, mouth opening to-KNOCK KNOCK. His mouth snapped shut, and he halted the car for Sam, raised an eyebrow at his brother through the window.

Sam noticed the glare he's given and gives Dean the class "what do you want" look. He got into the backseat and with a smirk, asked, "Did you two have a nice talk?"

"Yeah, about '10 Ways in Which Sam Winchester is a Little Bitch'. " Dean snarked at the backseat. "Thought you wanted to walk?"

"Oh c'mon, you really believed that line of BS?" Sam laughed... "You've lost your touch, bro."

'Get outta my car.' Dean ordered without any real heat, he made eye contact through the rearview and fought the urge to stick out his tongue.

"I just got back in" Sam playfully whined. He looked in the rearview mirror, matched Dean's look and winked.

Dean didn't cave, but it was close. He rolled his eyes and threw a look of mock despair at Castiel, fingers flicking in surrender.

Sam smiled to himself at Dean's reaction. He knew he hit a soft spot.

Castiel watched the Winchesters trying hard not to laugh at the two of them. He knew that Sam had seen them and was picking on Dean for it. All he can do though was roll his eyes and smile.

They made it back to the motel unscathed, and Dean deliberately took his time getting out of the car so he's out of earshot from Sam to catch Cas and offer a 'Thanks. For, uh, earlier.'

"For what?" Cas asked. He honestly didn't really know what Dean was talking about, at least he didn't think Dean could be talking about what Cas couldn't stop thinking about, could he? No. Dean is 'straight'. He's heard Dean say it often enough, and seen him chase plenty of girls. There is no possibility he's talking about that.

"The, uh-" he ducked his head, rubbing the back of his neck, and he knew the tips of his ears are red. "Whole 'guardian angel' routine."

Cas brushed his hand on Dean's, trying to keep it subtle in case Sam's watching. "No problem, Dean. I am always here for you, you know that."

Yeah, Dean knew that, and that he trusted that Castiel means it, that Castiel could be ...scared him. It didnt stop him from reaching to grab Cas's hand back for a fleeting moment, before he thought about it enough to regret what accepting that might mean. He squeezed and let go, getting out of the car.

Cas was a little shocked by Dean grabbing his hand, even for a split second. It's so unlike Dean to show affection, Cas knows he's a love 'em and leave 'em type of guy. However, here he is showing little signs. Cas sighed, confused by his emotions and the messages he's receiving, but also tired of trying to figure out Dean Winchester. Why did the man have to be so damn complicated?

"Sam-?" the motel room door's already open, so that's where Dean went, purposely not thinking about anything but a shower, expression hopefully obfuscating the mix of emotions that have entirely too much to do with Castiel so he can go face his too-knowing little brother.

Sam heard Dean come in over the sound of the shower. He figured Dean would NOT want Sam watching, so he hit the showers before his brother could use up all the hot water. As he slipped into some jeans that weren't covered in dust, he stepped out of the bathroom. "All yours, dude."

As soon as Dean headed into the bathroom and the shower was going, Sam gave Cas a once over, seeing how dusty his clothes were. "Hey, Cas, I was gonna go clean Dean's and my clothes, why don't I take yours with me? You can borrow some of Dean's clean clothes til I'm back." Without waiting too long for a response, he started digging through Dean's stuff looking for some of the smaller stuff. He grabbed a pair of old jeans and a Bon Jovi shirt that Dean had for some reason and tossed them at Cas, motioning for him to change and hand over the dirty clothes.

"Bitch, you left hair in the drain" Dean called good-naturedly, as he opened the door and stopped cold. After a relaxing, mostly warm shower to wash away his confusion in, the last thing a towel-wearing Dean needed was to walk in on a stripping Castiel. As he slammed the door closed with a yell of surprise he swore he could hear Sam laughing.

Sam was just about to warn Dean as he saw the bathroom door open, but after Dean's reaction he's damn glad he didn't. He breaks down laughing, and man does it feel good. After he calmed down a bit, he took the clothes from a very confused Castiel, and headed over to the laundry area of the motel.

Dean was not gonna hide in the bathroom like a twelve-year-old girl. He was not.

Cas finished changing and knocked on the bathroom door. "Dean? What's wrong?" He knew it has something to do with the fact that Dean walked out while Castiel was in a certain state of nakedness. However, Sam didn't seem to have a problem with it, so why did Dean?

Dean slowly counted to five in his head, took a deep breath and hoped Cas is dressed. "Nothing, man, it's fine." He opens the door again and finds Cas in a shirt Dean got because it reminded him of Sam while he was at Stanford. He headed to grab some clean clothes from his duffle, feeling strangely self-conscious, so he can change.

"Is it alright that I borrowed your clothes, Dean? Sam gave them to me, so he could wash mine. I believe he took yours too." Cas was really confused, and he knew it showed on his face. He hoped Dean would read that and maybe explain what exactly is going on.

"Huh? Yeah, of course Cas, that's fine, you're welcome to whatever you need." Dean didn't turn around, so he missed the face, but he could hear the confusion. He dressed perfunctorily, ears burning.

"Alright. Thank you, Dean." Cas doesn't really know what else to say at this point. He has long noticed that Dean's ears turn bright red when he's embarrassed, and not saying what he wants or needs to say. He wants to drop the subject but finds himself unable to. "Dean... um.. Why did it bother you to see me when you walked out of the bathroom?"

"I was just startled, man, that's all." Dean told him honestly, turning around to meet the stare of Cas' he ccould feel through the shirt now on his back. He didn't really want to go into the whole 'I may also be attracted to you and have no idea how to even start dealing with that' bit or he may panic. Besides, Cas was a friend, and an angel, and probably had no idea of the profound effect his reassurances, the words used to convey his desire to protect them, even had on Dean.

Castiel sighed at the typical Dean response, avoiding the issue by saying just enough of a truth that it would slip by. However, Cas and Sam both know Dean better than that to let him get away with it. However, today it does not look like Castiel is going to have much of a choice. Resigning, he slipped out the door quietly, not even searching for his grace. He just wanted to walk and think and maybe figure out just a little bit of Dean's inner workings.


	5. Could it be Love?

Exactly five seconds after Cas left, Dean covered his face and cursed himself for being the idiot he is, digging his fingers into his eyes. It's fine, he's just having a minor internal crisis, though it's less over how Cas is male and more over how he's feeling entirely too much too soon for the closest thing he has to a friend. Who deserves more than half-truths, anyhow. Dammit. He headed out, barefoot like an idiot, to stop the angel 'Cas? Cas, wait.'

Cas heard Dean, but keeps walking. Eventually Dean caught up, and grabbed Castiel's arm. Dean twisted Cas to face him, and somewhere in that moment, Cas found himself kissing Dean, square on the lips. Not what he expected to do, but he leaned into it, putting his free hand in the small of Dean's back, pulling him closer. After they pulled apart, Castiel realized that Dean had just run over gravel and various debris, including glass, barefoot. "Dean, your feet. You're bleeding."

"..." Dean kinda short-circuited, mouth open and a bit wrecked, he looked at Cas with shock and definitely wanted to try that again. Who cared about feet, what feet, hell he'll remember to breathe in a minute.

Since Dean didn't pull away any further, Castiel leaned up for another kiss, this time taking his hand from Dean and running his hand through Dean's hair.

Which would be great, if they'd had a minute, uninterrupted. There was an obnoxious clapping somewhere off to their right.

"It's about time, you two." Sam said, "I've been trying to leave you two alone all the damn time... it's nice to see you two make such good use of your time together." Sam laughed lightly, and continued, "Anyway, I came to say that I finished the laundry, Dean, yours is on the bed, Cas, I gotta go get your coat dry cleaned, so you two lovebirds have about an hour to make the best of." Still smirking, Sam turned on his heel and headed back to the main street.

Sam found the dry cleaners pretty easily, not that anything was very hard to find in this town, and headed in with Cas' coat. "Hi. I just need this dry cleaned, please."

The lady behind the counter gave the dusty, and slightly bloody, coat a weary look and said "That'll be $5 and we'll have it ready in about half an hour."

"Thank you." Paying her, Sam headed to the diner, grabbed a late lunch to kill some time. Turns out with the rate of service, by the time he'd finished and grabbed lunch for Dean and Cas, plus pie, it'd been almost an hour. Sam headed back to the drycleaner's, claimed the coat, and walked back to the motel. As he got to the room, he made damn sure to knock, because he did not want to walk into whatever the hell it was they were doing. As it turned out, they were waiting on Sam, because Castiel opened the door wearing Dean's jeans.

After Dean had bitten his tongue, and refrained from yelling obscenities at his brother for ruining the moment, he'd gotten himself and Cas inside, sheepishly limping back to the room. After having his feet fixed by an impatient angel, he was glad that Sam had taken a hike for awhile. Dean greeted his little brother with mussed hair and a smirk, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Nice to see you two had fun," Sam said laughing, noting that the Bon Jovi shirt was now hanging unceremoniously over the mirror in the corner. "I brought you some sustenance... and pie." He handed over the bag to Dean, and gave Cas one of the burgers, before his brother ate them all.

After Sam had left, Cas found himself almost dragged back to the room. Once they were back, he found himself basically blackmailing Dean to allow him to heal Dean's feet. Not that he would have carried through with the threat, but it worked. Sam had told them that they would have an hour, and Cas sure as hell wanted to make the most of it. However, that hour went by too damn quick. He soon felt Sam's presence and had just managed to slip on his jeans when Sam knocked. Cas took a second to get to the door to allow Dean to get his pants on and sit up on the bed, before he opened the door allowing Sam in. Sam brought burgers and pie, handing the bag to Dean, however he gave Castiel a bacon cheeseburger. Sam always knew the little things about Cas, like his favourite foods.

Dean's took the bag and his whole face lit up when he saw the pie. "Dude, could this night get any better?" Sometimes, his little brother's pretty awesome.

Sam laughed at Dean's reaction, "Well, I could go talk to the manager about getting a room for David Bryan. Cuz there is way too much rocking and rolling going on this room, Bonham."

Dean groaned at how lame that was. "Really, Sam?" he asked with his mouth full. He slanted a hopeful look at Castiel.

"Y'know coming from the one with the Bon Jovi shirt, that's nice, jerk." Sam laughed again, but headed for the door, with the intent of getting a single room a couple doors down. Jokes aside, he knew Dean would appreciate it.

Thanks, bitch!" Dean called after his retreating brother. Man, he is_ so_ glad he didn't trade Sam for a puppy.

As Sam headed back to the manager's office, he dug around for cash to use. The rooms were cheap, and he knew he had the money, he just hoped he hadn't left most of it in the room. Looking through his wallet though, he found just enough to cover a night, and walked up to the counter. "Hi, I'd like a room for the night please, single."

"Don't you already _have_ a room?" The manager drawled at him unhappily over the top of his sports magazine, snagging a key from the rack beside him. "What happened, you have a lover's quarrel?" He smirked, like it's a private joke with himself.

"Sorry, think you got me confused with someone else." Sam said taking the key. Room 13, which is far enough away from the old room that Sam can probably get some work done and not worry about Dean and Cas.

"Hey, man, you're a dollar short. Tax."

"Damn." Sam reached in his pockets and finding a dollar in loose change gives it to the manager.

The manager scowled at the pennies he has to count like they've personally wronged him and waved Sam off, eager to go back to enjoying the 1998 swimsuit edition.

Sam headed to his room, wanting to make sure the key works. Since it does he heads back to Dean's room, listening at the door before he knocked.

Dean was pornographically moaning at the delicious_ delicious_ pie, watching Cas watch him from the end of the bed and playing it up a bit.

Sam rolled his eyes and headed back down, sending Dean a quick text letting him know 'David's' room number.

Dean checked his phone and snorts at Sam's room number, then looked at Cas. "So, up for round two?" They would probably going to have to talk about this at some point, but that point is not now.

Cas looked at Dean and almost said something, but before he got the chance, Dean was on top of him, smothering him in kisses.

'This.. this's nice', Dean thought hazily, after, pressed close to Castiel and feeling him breathe.

"That is an... understatement," Cas clarified, pulling Dean near him. Cas ran his hand down Dean's spine, feeling the ripple of goosebumps that follow.

"Yeah." Dean exhaled shakily, mumbling into Cas's shoulder.

Cas chuckled lightly at Dean. Dean, who was so macho with everyone, yet so different with Cas. His Dean. How he could get used to saying that.

Dean was warm and sleepy, feeling something close to safe with the angel's steady borrowed heartbeat beneath him. His eyes slipped closed and he drifted for awhile, half-awake.

Even though angels don't need sleep, Cas found himself closing his eyes and relaxing, just being here in this little haven. Just him and Dean, making their own sanctuary. He could feel Dean falling asleep on his shoulder, and helped by giving Dean some good dreams. He stayed till morning, not even considering leaving to go check on Heaven.

Dean woke well-rested, not from the nightmares he's accustomed to, but from the hand gently brushing through his hair, and for a second he startled until memory explained who he's curled into. 'Morning, Cas.'

"Morning, Dean." Cas smiled, with a mischievous glint in his eye. "You look well rested."

'Get outta my head, man.' But he smiled when he said it, and leaned up for slow, closed-mouth morning kiss.

Cas reciprocated, even pushed the boundary a little on the kiss. When he pulled away, he attempted to joke. "Who says I was in your head, lover?"

Dean sobered at that, his soft open expression shifted into something more serious as he registered the last word. Sure, he's had plenty of flings, but since Cassie, he... He shook his head and smiled back at Cas, the name similarity not lost on him, and he felt a spark of amusement. This feeling he had, for the angel, is light years and a different Dean away from before. "Well if you're not, I'm pretty sure you can guess what I'm thinking now." Dean winked lasciviously, hand moving below the sheets.

Cas brought Dean in close, and murmured, "I never have to be in your head to know what you're thinking." Cas smirked back, pulling Dean closer. He hadn't been lying when he said he didn't need to read Dean's mind... but sometimes he was curious, and he'd heard loud and clear what Dean was thinking, and he planned to use that to his advantage...

Sam found himself with nothing to do. No way in hell was he going upstairs to his brother's room. He'd shared a room enough over the years to know how Dean treated his one night stands, and Cas was most definitely not one of those. Sam tried to do some research on the artefact, but Cas hadn't really given him a lot to go on, so he found himself grabbing the laptop and going to the diner to play Solitaire.

Dean called Sam an hour or so later for meetup, sounding way too cheerful for a caffeine addict who hasn't had his coffee yet.

Sam smiled, knowing that Castiel is a miraculous light in Dean's dark, moody world. He orders a coffee, black, and one with some cream and sugar for Cas. He refilled his for the road and headed back to Dean's room, knocking lightly before entering. "Coffee, anyone?"

Dean answered the door fully dressed and ready to go, greeting Sam with a one-armed hug and happily taking his cup. "Thanks, dude."

Sam raised an eyebrow at the hug, "Cas, we might have to keep you around. I haven't seen my brother this happy, in... well, ever." He smiled at that, because he'd seen too much depression from Dean, and a little happiness goes a long way.

"Hey!" Dean protested. "I was happy last week, when we found that half-price gun show in Indiana."

Sam looked at his brother and laughed. "Not this happy."

"Yeah, yeah." Dean waved his hand at his brother, looking at Castiel.

The glances between the two were not lost on Sam. He noticed and couldn't help but smile, seeing the two of them this happy. He also felt a twinge of sadness, because it reminded him too much of him and Jess.

Dean took a sip and burnt his tongue on the coffee and started coughing, ruining the moment.

Sam laughed at the look on Dean's face... somewhere between crestfallen and laughing.

Cas looked at the Winchesters, at first a little confused, then he finds himself sucked in by Sam's contagious laughter. Soon Dean joined in. Castiel found that he was genuinely happy here, with the brothers, just laughing over little things. For one tiny moment, they didn't have to worry about the apocalypse and Michael and Lucifer. It was just them, a family. Castiel realized how important family was to the Winchesters, and somehow, he knew and was proud to admit that he'd become part of theirs.


	6. To Hell and Back

It's been a nice morning, one of the best Dean can remember, but when Dean finished his cup of coffee he figures they should get to business. "So, uh, artefact. Lilith. What are we going to do about those?."

Sam almost wanted to kick Dean for breaking the mood. He hasn't felt this happy, or relaxed, in a long time. Instead, though, he brought up his laptop, "What information can you give me on it, Cas?"

Cas looked at the two, amazed how just one second ago they were lighthearted, and goofy, as Dean would say, but now they were all business. He sighed, "It's an ancient ring from Egypt with a hieroglyph of Anubis, the god who helped the dead to the underworld. Apparently it belonged to Tutankhamen, and some even believe it was cursed and led to his death, and those of the archaeologists who found the tomb."

"Damn, I knew I should've paid more attention to that mummy unit in fifth grade." Dean leaned forward. "So that was what was giving the ghost chick the extra juice?"

Cas took a sip from his coffee, and found that he likes it, as sweet as it is, and nodded. "Yes. The ancient Egyptians believed that one of the earlier pharaohs made a deal with Anubis to avoid death, and the curse was placed on the ring to ensure the pharaoh's demise eventually. Later, King Tutankhamen wore it as a symbol and well, you know the rest, he died at 18, a boy king."

Dean flinched at the phrase, as it was definitely not one of his favorites, and deliberately doesn't glance at Sam. Grimly, "huh, can't say that doesn't sound familiar. Crowley might've mentioned something about it."

"Why were you talking to Crowley about King Tut?" asked Sam, who wondered if Dean didn't mean the 'boy king' bit.

"I dunno, he probably has a fetish. Dude, I was a bit busy with the ghost fucking with my _car_."

"Wait... so he said this to you yesterday? You don't find that, I don't know weird at all?" Damn... Dean's inner alarm must need tweaking.

Dean was instantly a bit defensive. "No, I think it's a lot weird, which is why I brought it up."

Cas broke in. "So Crowley mentioned this ring to you? Why did you still go in and touch it?" He tried not to sound stern, but Dean acted like a child if all this was true.  
"He didn't mention the ring, okay, I had no idea what the fuck it was. He called Sam... the 'Boy King'." Damn but Dean didn't want to say that, wanted to ask Cas about the threat to his little brother later, preferably way out of Sam's earshot.

"It's not the first time he's called me that, Dean, why are you so worked up about it now?"

"Cause I heard it too many times in Hell!." Dean snapped, and instantly regretted it.

Sam looked to the floor immediately, not knowing that Dean would snap the way he did.

Cas did a very similar move, except he leaned in and put his hand on Dean's shoulder, right where the scar he left is.

For a minute, Dean is very tempted to shake Cas off, not wanting to be touched. He tried to calm down, the few deep breaths he takes sounding loud in the sudden silence.

Sam suddenly felt like the third wheel and quietly sneaked out the door. He headed back down to his room and delves into the depths of the internet, intent to find out everything he can about this ring.

Cas can feel Dean's breaths, and as soon as Sam's out of the room, he grabbed Dean's hand and pulls him to the bed, and into a deep hug. Hugs for Dean were rare and far between, so Castiel tried to put all his emotions into it, the love he felt for Dean, the worry about the outburst, and the pride Cas feels for Dean.

Dean hated this, hated that he's triggered by a stupid jumble of words, hated that his reactions feel beyond his control. He's tried to hide most of the damage from Sam, especially from Sam, but. The torture wasn't just physical. Hell finds your weaknesses, all of them, and exploits them, and Sam's the biggest one he's got. He kept breathing, feeling Castiel warm around him, and slowly, incrementally, felt himself calm down.

Cas can feel Dean calm down, and slowly pulled Dean's face to his, in a soft kiss, not meant to be anything more than a comfort.

Dean pressed into it, taking the comfort for what it is.

Slowly, Castiel pushed Dean to the bed, what started out as a small thing, leads to more, as most of they're kisses do... After they finished, Cas found himself lying on the bed, wearing sweat pants, borrowed from Dean, of course, and with Dean's head on his chest. Dean was fast asleep, a sign that the stress had gotten to him more than Dean knew. Cas made sure to help Dean have some good dreams, the outburst about hell had worried him, Dean had never talked about Hell and Cas worried that bottling it up would just create a problem down the road for them.

Sam found himself pacing around the room. All he'd found so far was pretty much what Cas had told them. He'd found some information about the mummy's curse, but it didn't say anything about how it connected to the boy king dying. There was that phrase again... what Crowley had taken to calling him, aside from Moosey. Sam rolled his eyes and sat down again, looking at links on the 256th page on Google.


	7. Love on the Rocks

Dean woke after his brief nap and the first thing he felt, besides the warm arms tight around him and a pleasant sort of soreness, is the urge to apologize to Sam. Awesome, big brother guilt, his favourite. 'Hey, Cas?' He murmured, partially to the angel behind him and partially to his pillow. 'Uh, thanks, for... the, uhm, help. "He finished lamely, curled into the warmth of the angel and not wanting to turn over. That was kind of an epic freak out earlier. Damn, he's supposed to be stronger than this.

"Dean, you don't need to worry about Sam. He understands better than you would think." Cas kept his arms around Dean. He meant what he said. Dean had a way of underestimating his little brother... and sometimes, if Dean could get past his pride and ask his brother for help, it was the best advantage the two had.

Dean mumbled about 'the mind reading thing again'. 'Yeah maybe, but he won't if I can help it. Not about some things.' They both know what he meant, nobody needed to say it, and he slammed the wall down right there on that train of thought.

Cas gave Dean a kiss on the forehead, chuckling at the mind reading comment. He stopped the train of conversation at the station and gets up, putting on one of Dean's shirts and some jeans. "C'mon, babe, let's go find Sam and get something to eat."

"What'd you just call me?" Dean stopped in the middle of pulling on one of his own shirts and made a funny face at Castiel.

"Babe? Isn't that what people in relationships call each other?" Cas is really confused, and worried that he screwed something up.

"Yeah, I mean no, I mean... where did you learn that?" Dean was just surprised, that's all.

"I have been an angel for many millennia, Dean, I can give you thousands of words for a loved one. This one just happens to be the most current I've heard."

"Uh...Okay. Yeah Cas, that's. That's fine. " The words 'loved one' are echoed in Dean's head a bit funny, and he blinked a bit.

Cas looked at Dean and knew that it wasn't not quite fine, but he was not going to fight over that right now. Not after Dean's meltdown earlier. "Let's get some dinner, ok?"

"Yeah, okay." Dean shook his head and snapped out of it. He got dressed and grabbed his wallet, ready to go grab Sam.

Before they left, Cas grabbed Dean's hand and pulled him in for a kiss. "Don't worry so much, ok? Everything will work out."


	8. Of Pies and Moose (Meese?)

**A/N Sorry about my sporadic posting... My friend and I worked on our story some though... and I felt like being goofy in the title of this chapter... that's what you get for me posting at 11:30 on a school night... :P love ya!**

Sam was brought out of his researching by a knock on the door. Knowing Dean's knock anywhere, he yelled "It's open"

Dean opened the door to motel room 13 with a "You better not be naked in there, Samantha!" thrown in for effect. Winchesters didn't do 'feelings' very well, and he gauged the look on Sam's face carefully as he walked through the door. Cas had thrown him for a loop completely, what with the whole 'love and understanding' thing that the angel acted like Dean deserved. But Sam, Sam was pretty predictable, and Dean would rather pull his teeth out than talk about why he'd fucking panicked, so he was hopeful that they could just skip the Dr. Phil routine and figure out which demon to go kill.  
Sam rolled his eyes at Dean's nickname for him. "I have gone through hundreds of pages about this damn ring... and nothing connecting to it to anything of note. I think we need to find someone who was there... Cas, anyone come to mind?"  
Dean flopped on the bed, picking up a dog-eared book that was in his way and thumbing through it. He was relieved after finding nothing but frustration at the research failing him on his brother's face, privately happy that his little brother was such a geek.  
"Be careful with that, jerk... I don't need you ripping up another one of my favourites." Sam smirked, thinking about the last book that had come on a hunt and ended up in Dean's hands, one of Tolkien's, if he remembered right.  
"Hey, at least that book had a ring in it, this one is probably about talking pigs, or river valleys in Mesopotamia." Dean volleyed back, remembering how he had helped Sam with that stupid high school world history project, building a model while bleeding from a shittily self-stitched Harpy scratch at 4am.  
"Animal Farm should be right up your alley... it's in the same sandbox as Vonnegut." Sam remembered the project too, one of the best moments in his high school career... though his teacher had wondered why it had been turned in covered in blood.  
"Yeah yeah, communism allegories aren't gonna help us figure out who to go after now though." Dean had read that book too, before he'd had to drop out...  
Sam looked back at Cas, who sighed. "The only one I know who might have any information would be Crowley... do either of you feel like dealing with him?"  
"You boys rang?" An obnoxiously saccharine voice carried from near the television.  
Dean groaned loudly.  
"Damn it, Crowley, can't you use the door, like normal people?" Sam said, not entirely pleased at seeing the king of hell either.  
Cas looked at the demon with extreme distaste. However, he bit his tongue and stayed civil. "Yes, we have a problem that is just up your alley." He described the situation, and kept an eye on Dean, to make sure he didn't snap at the demon.  
"You seem to have no problem letting your pet angel appear as he pleases." Crowley responded to Sam, with a smirk at a now near-growling Dean. He listened to Castiel with an air of mild disinterest bordering on irritation, and seemed to be thoughtfully considering something after heaven's best and brightest finished.  
Sam glared at Crowley, but stayed silent as Cas began.  
Dean impatiently waited for Crowley's response, but after a few seconds of staring he burst out with a "Well?!"  
Crowley raised an eyebrow at Dean. "I think your friend Lilith might've found an ally from the wrong side of the tracks. Have you by chance seen any giant sun-eating snakes?"  
"No?" Sam looked at Crowley, trying to figure out what the hell the demon is talking about.  
"Apep, ancient Egyptian personification of all evil, won at being 'most unpopular' until Set got better press." The demon condescended to explain like Sam is three and it's the most obvious thing in the world. "Didn't think he was still hanging around the underworld."  
"Well if he hangs out in the underworld, what would he be doing up here?" Sam asked, picking up the same tone.  
Crowley is supremely unaffected by Sam's mirroring tone. "Probably sowing chaos wherever he pleases, if he was invited back up here. He's a nasty piece of work, but that ring sounds like one of his trinkets."  
"So what you're saying is that Lillith decided to invite some ancient Egyptian god up here for coffee?" Sam asked, before anyone else could.  
"Very good, Gigantor." It's possibly the most patronizing praise given this side of a dog kennel.  
Sam stood up, unconsciously stretching to full height in front of Crowley, before he began to pace a bit by the door. "But..." before he could finish, Crowley was gone.  
"Thanks asshole!" Dean snarled at the empty space the demon left behind.  
With a pop Crowley reappeared in front of Sam, holding out a hand expectantly. "That pie. The slice you were saving for Dean." At Sam's clouded face. "Honey, I don't work for free."  
"I don't know what pie you're talking about, Crowley." Sam said, gaining some composure. To be honest, he didn't feel like sharing all his food with the demon... even if he was the King of Hell.  
"The pie in the third drawer to the right in that ratty cabinet with the scorch marks." Crowley raised an eyebrow.  
"You, Mr. Demon, are hallucinating." Sam didn't know where this all came from, but he just felt like messing with Crowley.  
Crowley just sighed and stalked over to the drawer to take the pie himself.  
Sam smirked. He knew he'd gotten to Crowley, which for some reason, made him happy. "Now that you got your pie, you feel like helping us?"  
"Already did." Crowley smirked back, blinking out of the room.  
"So doesn't count..." Sam muttered at the floor.  
Dean muttered helpfully about 'shithead demons that steal freaking PIE'.  
Sam laughed and headed over to the fridge, pulling out another pie, short a piece. "His pie radar needs help, I guess."  
Crowley reappeared and took the bag from Sam, smiling through a drawled "I just love delivery" before disappearing again, this time for good.  
"Of course he does..." Sam rolled his eyes, "Dean, why don't we just go to the diner?"

Sam raised an eyebrow at his brother... not hungry coming from his brother is like a priest saying no to Sunday Mass.  
"Don't give me that mother-hen face, we can eat dinner later, unless it'll mess up your diet." Dean grouched at his brother. "Cas, you wanna help with the research part or the finding the giant snake part?"


	9. Parties, Soirees, and Movies

**A/N: I just wanna say thanks to all ya'll who are reading this... you are much appreciated! VioletErin.26, you are totally awesome, I'm so glad you're enjoying this so much! :D And I love this chapter, cuz Dean and Sam finally have that chick-flick moment Dean's been avoiding from the get-go.**

Cas looked at Dean and rolled his eyes.. He almost wondered sometimes what the Winchesters would do if he was caught up in his Heavenly duties and couldn't come to help them out. Thankfully, this was not one of those times.  
Dean scrunches his face at Cas's expression. "Dude, Sam, you taught my angel how to roll his eyes, your teenage cooties are contagious."  
"I'm pretty sure he picked that up before he was 'your' angel, Dean." Sam laughed.  
Dean looked at Cas. "Well?"  
Cas looked from one Winchester to the next, shrugged and grabbed a hold of his grace and left to go research the "giant snake".  
Sam couldn't help but laugh at the reaction on Dean's face.  
"Shut up, Sam." Dean glared, ears red.  
"Not on this one. Cuz now I get to watch you pout till 'your' angel comes back."  
"Yeah, well... Thanks, ...for, uh, not being ...weird... about that." Dean gestured abstractly, not making eye contact, ears burning.  
"Why would I be weird, Dean... you've been lying to yourself for far too long.. Cas is just the one who climbed into the closet and dragged your ass out."  
'Yeah, well, ...it takes some getting used to." Dean didn't mention the few boys he'd eyed at bars too far past midnight when he'd been younger, didn't mention the disapproval flaring in his father's eyes at the two guys they'd saved from a werecat who turned out to be a couple, did't mention a lot of things.  
Sam rolled his eyes. He'd known since the boys had been teens that Dean's constant rotation of women was all for show. He was 85% certain that John had known somewhere too, but that was a whole different heart to heart.  
Dean was still avoiding eye contact, letting the silence grow.  
Sam looked at Dean again, sighed, and grabbed his brother's wrist, "c'mon."  
"Where're you draggin' me, Sammy?"  
Sam didn't say anything, but grabbed the keys for the Impala from Dean. He opened the car door and started the engine. Once Dean was settled, he headed for the interstate, taking the exit towards Cleveland.  
"The fuck Sammy, who said you could drive my car?" Dean bitched at Sam until he realized it was a moot point and resigned himself to turning up his music loudly and staring grumpily out the passenger window.  
Sam smirked, but he knew that Dean needed a distraction, and with Cas off doing angel research, that left the surprise Sam had planned the night before, during a break in his research. "You'll see, jerk," he said, raising his voice to be heard over the music.  
"Whatever, bitch."  
45 minutes later, they were in the outskirts of Cleveland, and Sam headed for the exit that lead to the Tower City Cinema. As they got closer, Sam started seeing the banners... As he pointed them out to Dean, he quoted the site he'd found, "FILM FEASTS is a series of parties, soirées, and gatherings to celebrate all that is film and art in Cleveland.' Food and movies, I thought you'd like that."  
"Dude, you planned us an artsy movie date? Are we painting each other's nails later?" Dean's incredulity is only barely offset by his obvious delight at the surprise. Unfortunately sometimes his way of showing appreciation is by being kind of a dick but he figures Sam understands that, being that Sam is totally a giant girl.  
"Yeah, and braiding each other's hair, too. Thanks for the appreciation, bro." Sam fought to keep a straight face, because he knew that Dean was just being Dean.  
"And then we can play truth or dare and write together in our diaries." Dean punches Sam lightly in the arm, grinning.  
Sam laughed, happy to have the carefree Dean back, even for a little bit. "If we get Cas back, we could always play spin the bottle. I'd even let you cheat."  
Dean snorts at that mental image. "We could always have a pillow fight."  
"Let's not forget the Notebook, followed by the Titanic, or vice versa."  
"And definitely A Walk to Remember."  
"Great choice," Sam said, not able to keep the straight face anymore. He broke up laughing, and earned a funny look from the will call clerk.  
Dean cracked up too, and they wound up looking like a couple of nutballs for the next five minutes before they could properly get tickets.

**So... who all's excited about tonight?**


	10. Casanova

_**a/n: I'm baaaack! Who missed me? Haha... nice to see your friendly comments, and VioletErin.26, my best friend, the Cas to my Dean, finds it extremely hilarious that you two share a name and opinions on this story.**_

Dean had three entire plates of hors d'oeuvres and fully enjoyed that one European movie with the gratuitous full frontal scenes, even if reading the subtitles gave him a headache from squinting. Sammy's Film Festival thing kind of rocks.

Sam had to half drag Dean back to the Impala after the festival. After almost 6 hours of foreign films, exotic food, and lots of alcohol to try, not that Sam found any to his taste, being a Midwestern beer kind of guy, Dean was tripping over his own feet. As he unceremoniously dropped his brother in the back seat to sleep some, Sam smiled to himself, he was really glad that Dean had had such a great time, without having to think about saving the world for a day. Smiling again, he got in the front seat and headed back to the hotel  
Dean was drowsing, the neon overhead lights of the city flickering softly over his face through the backseat window. The rhythm of the road under him is familiar, comforting, and for awhile all is peaceful as he sleeps. Until the nightmares begin. Inaudibly under Sam's music Dean started mumbling. It's mostly gibberish, but there are a few words of Latin mixed in, and he shifts restlessly. There's an increasingly panicked litany of 'no no no's' and a whispered 'Samsam/sam/sammyplease' and a quiet despairing 'Cas?' and then his mouth is open and he's screaming soundlessly into the leather seat. He's back in Hell, where he belongs.  
Sam heard his name a couple times from the back, but after a quick look over his shoulder, saw Dean sleeping restlessly. He sighed, he knew that Dean was having another nightmare. The only time he didn't seem to have them, or at least looked well rested in the morning was when Cas was around.  
Dean startles awake, bumping his head on the car door painfully. He immediately checked to see if his intestines are where he left them, and sighed with too much relief when he finds everything intact. Staring up at the Impala's ceiling hazily he prays a mental thank you.  
"You ok back there, Dean-o?" Sam asked laughing, with a look into the rearview mirror at his brother.  
'Yeah, Sam, 'm... I'm fine." Dean answers him soberly, maintaining eye contact with the roof of his car.  
Sam smiled lightly, "Well we're almost home, ETA five minutes." They drove the last bit in silence and getting to the hotel, Sam could see Cas on the ledge of the second floor of the motel, "Seems like your Casanova is waiting for you, Dean." Sam said laughing.  
Dean groans at his little brother's awful sense of humor and unsteadily sits up to get out of the car.  
Sam got to Dean before he could completely face plant and helped his brother up the stairs of the motel, and smirked when Dean spent too much time trying to find the key to his room.  
Dean caught the expression of Sam's face when he finally managed to unlock the door.'Shut up, bitch, this's your fault.'  
"Yeah, cuz I said you should have five shots... and two scotches, and three I don't know what the hell they were." Sam laughed, because he knew Dean had had more than that... "You're a jerk, you know that?"  
"Proudest accomp-accompli-shhhment." Dean slurred at his brother, letting himself be manhandled inside onto a bed.  
"Uh huh." Sam said, heading back to the door. "Take care of him, Casanova." The nickname snuck out this time before Sam even registered what'd he said... the look on Cas' face though was most definitely worth it.  
Sam bit his lip to keep from laughing at Dean's reaction... and Cas' face is still stuck in some form of shock. Finally the angel found his voice. "Sam, what does an 18th century writer have to with me? Aside from the similarity in names, of course, but I still don't understand the reference."  
Dean groaned loudly and covers his face with his hands, muttering something to the effect of 'not enough alcohol to deal with this'.  
Between the two of them, Sam could not keep it together anymore, so clutching his ribs from laughing, he left and went back to his room to catch a couple hours of sleep before tomorrow, well today, when Cas explains all he found out.  
After Sam left, Cas turned to Dean, with his perfected puppy dog eyes, and asked, "Dean, what was Sam talking about?"

_**a/n: HI GUYS! Sorry that I've been slacking. Me and my friend got together and this totally just happened... all because I slipped and called Casanova behind his back... now Dean has to deal with it. Oh well...**_


	11. Intermission

**Hi guys! Ok. So I'm part of the NaNoWriMo crowd this year, and probably won't be updating my story much this month. However, I am completely willing to put my story up here, since it's kind of fan fiction... what do you guys think? Feel free to message me or comment your username on NaNo too, if you want. **

**Thanks! Love you all.**

**PS: On NaNo, my UN is CastiellaWinchester.**


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